


Vigilante Pretenses

by DeathSquiggles



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Ragehappy Secret Santa 2016, Roommates, Secret Identities, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathSquiggles/pseuds/DeathSquiggles
Summary: Ryan shrugs. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, you got me a place to live, someone to split rent, and put me in touch with someone interested in recruiting, to boot. I have no idea how I’m gonna make all of this up to you.”Geoff glances back at him with a lopsided smile. “Invite me over for enchiladas. And don’t kill Gavin.” 

Superhero AU + Roommates + Secret Identities





	

**Author's Note:**

> My gift for this year's Ragehappy Secret Santa! This is my third year participating and it is always a lot of fun! I don't usually write Freewood but it is good to go outside of your comfort zone. Thanks again to Ave and the crew for hosting such an awesome event, and hopefully see you all again next year!

When Georgia outlawed superheroics- whoops, outlawed  _ dangerous vigilante justice- _ Ryan had felt lost. He’d spent the better part of his 35 years of life defending the streets of Brunswick and now the local PD, government, and general populace scared by propaganda was sending a clear message:  _ We don’t want you. _

He knew it was coming. When Alabama began making pioneering legislation on a statewide level to ban the practice of superhuman powers, it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the South followed suit, not willing to be outdone by any other bastion of conservative traditionalism. But he was still unprepared, still dropped his morning coffee, still sat on his knees just beyond his front door, numbly reading the headline over and over and trying to make any sense of it.

It was a terrible couple of weeks. By the end of it, he had given up his lease, packed up his meager belongings, quit his job, and taken all of his money out of his savings account. Now, he’s sitting on the empty hardwood floor of his living/dining room (not his anymore), ignoring how his laptop has started to burn his thighs and scrolling through the flight lists out of the Brunswick Golden Isles Airport.

He  _ wants _ to stay local, but Ryan knows that’s not a good idea. The only valid long term choices before him lie on either coast, where the ideas are progressive and the cities are corrupt. He makes a short list on a piece of paper, tears it into strips with a city name on each, and mixes them up in his favorite baseball cap. Then he sits with the thing in his lap, staring at the contents, wondering what the hell his future holds.

It was never a question for Ryan, whether or not he should continue to protect people from the evils of the world; he’s been in this game for a long, long time, and he’s not about to drop his morals, his  _ obligation _ to the innocent just because things got a little hard. People get scared. Politicians make moves. Bills get passed, change gets banned, and lives are permanently changed in the name of public interest. He can’t bring himself to resent the people he’s given his life to for rejecting him- if Ryan were just another citizen trying to live his life with such frightening things clouding his reality, he would be scared, too.

So he picks a crumpled ball out of the hat and unfolds it without further hesitation.

And within five minutes, Ryan has booked his flight to Los Angeles.

 

Apartments in the city are fucking  _ expensive. _ Many times more so than anything in Brunswick- but at least there are jobs in Ryan’s field here, with flexible hours. Still, he’s not able to afford living on his own, so he gets in touch with an old friend who happens to live in the area.

“Thank you so much, Geoff,” Ryan repeats as Geoff leads him up the stairs of his new building. “Seriously. You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem, man- But I don’t know how long you’ll be thankful. Gavin’s like a brother to me, but he can be… A bit much.”

Ryan shrugs. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, you got me a place to live, someone to split rent, and put me in touch with someone interested in recruiting, to boot. I have no idea how I’m gonna make all of this up to you.”

Geoff glances back at him with a lopsided smile. “Invite me over for enchiladas. And don’t kill Gavin.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow. “You know I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Geoff mumbles. “Still. I know you’re capable of a lot more than you let on, Mr. Of-Course-I-Know-How-To-Throw-Knives.”

That brings out a chuckle in Ryan as Geoff unlocks the door and pushes it open.

The laughter ends in the same moment that Ryan is able to get a look past Geoff and see what’s inside.

There’s shit  _ everywhere. _ Boxes, clothes, crumpled up plastic packaging, wrappers, stacks of dishes, empty Red Bull cans- there’s barely a square inch of flat surface that hasn’t been covered in some way by mess. Ryan goes stiff just at the sight of it.

Geoff, too, has gone stiff. He breaks out of his temporary freeze to pinch the bridge of his nose and call out, “Gavin, didn’t I fucking tell you to clean your shit up?”

There’s a distinctly bird-like sound from somewhere out of sight, and then a head pokes around the corner in the hall. Ryan sincerely hopes that the kid with a giant nose and hair that looks like it was just attacked by a ceiling fan isn’t Gavin. Simultaneously, he  _ knows _ that this must be Gavin, because his eyes bug out when he spots Geoff, and then he disappears, giving an alarmed call when Geoff immediately makes chase. He practically has to wade across the living room to reach the hallway.

While Geoff takes off after Gavin, Ryan takes a single step through the threshold and rolls his bag against the wall beside the door, surveying the space in closer detail. It’s… Not as bad as he originally thought. Most of the mess is surface-level stuff that’ll be taken care of by a quick pickup. The furniture seems clean and on the higher end range of quality, and there’s no smell of rotting food or noticeable stains, so Gavin must be capable of keeping things at least sort of tidy. Maybe he’s just had a bad week, like Ryan. Had he not put all of his belongings in boxes and limited his meals to things that come in styrofoam or paper bags, Ryan is certain that his own apartment would have ended up littered in empty Diet Coke cans and discarded socks.

Geoff returns with presumably-Gavin tucked under his arm in a loose chokehold. The man is stumbling along and batting weakly at Geoff’s arms. Ryan fails to suppress an amused snort at the sight of his pathetic attempts at breaking the hold.

“Ryan,” Geoff says, finally releasing his prisoner, who springs to the side and quickly starts reordering his shirt and running a hand through his hair. “This is Gavin Free, mess maker extraordinaire. Gavin, this is Ryan Haywood. He just moved here from-”

“Georgia, yeah, I know,” Gavin cuts in. His voice is thickly affected with a British accent. “You only told me a few thousand times, Geoffrey.”

He finishes dusting himself out and thrusts his hand in Ryan’s direction. Ryan automatically clasps Gavin’s hand in his own and they shake. Gavin, he notices, has a warm hand and a firm grip. “Nice to meet you.” Ryan says, still going on autopilot.

“And you.” Gavin releases him and crosses his arms over his chest. Geoff elbows him in the ribs and Gavin jumps dramatically out of reach with a small noise of protest, then adds a quickly mumbled, “Sorry for the mess.”

“Gavin here has a bad habit of forgetting to live like a normal human being when he’s on a deadline,” Geoff explains. “So if you come home and he looks like he’s dead, just poke him a couple of times, and he should revive.”

Gavin sticks his tongue out at Geoff, then looks down at his feet- which leads his gaze around the cluttered floor, and he shrinks subtly back. “I, uh-” He gives a short laugh. “Sorry. Hadn’t realized how bad it’s gotten. I’ll, ah, I’ll grab the bin and… Take care of some of this.”

Ryan nods, tensing under the somewhat awkward air the room has taken, and turns to start fiddling with the luggage tag on his suitcase.

Gavin notices. “Where’s the rest of it?” He asks.

“There’re a couple of boxes being delivered, but other than that, this is all I have,” Ryan explains, shrugging the shoulder supporting the strap of his carryon for emphasis. “I tend to live lightly.”

“Oh,” Gavin replies, then quickly returns to picking his way across the room to the kitchen. He returns a moment late with a small trashcan and an empty liner.

Geoff sighs, shaking his head, and turns to Ryan. “Well, let me know if this cock sucker causes you too much trouble. For now, I gotta get back to the office. Jack’s already getting on my ass for taking a long lunch today- no need to give him any more reason to complain.”

“Sure. Thanks, Geoff.”

Then Geoff leaves him alone with Gavin. It takes Ryan exactly ten seconds before he asks, “Where are the trash bags?”

“Under the sink,” Gavin replies. “Why?”

Ryan quickly retrieves one and starts helping pick up. Gavin mumbles something appreciative and they work in silence until the main area is in a more acceptable state, Gavin occasionally making trips down the hall loaded down with a box or a pile of laundry. It doesn’t take too long, between them, to get the job done.

“I’ll take the rubbish bags downstairs, if you want to go check out your room,” Gavin offers. “It’s the second door on the left.”

Ryan is fairly certain that ‘rubbish bag’ isn’t a term that’s actually used in England, but he doesn’t say anything. Gavin’s already embarrassed enough as it is. No need to make Ryan’s presence something traumatic to his new roommate.

The room is a decent size, and it has good closet space. There’s already a bed frame with a mattress and a dresser shoved into the corner. Ryan isn’t sure if he’s meant to use them or if they belong to Gavin, so he sets his bags down on the floor and changes into some clean clothes, plugs in his nearly dead phone to charge, then returns to the living room to test out the couch.

He’s appreciating Gavin’s shelf full of XBox games when the man stumbles back into the apartment, nearly tripping over his own feet, but saving it at the last minute and stumbling onto solid footing. He glances up at Ryan and visibly deflates, because yeah, there’s no way in hell Ryan  _ didn’t _ catch that graceful display- he’s looking right at him.

“Are the dresser and bed yours?” Ryan asks, hoping to skip the hellishly awkward interaction that would follow.

“The what?” Gavin squints at him for a moment before perking up. “Oh! Yeah, I guess. Haven’t exactly been using them, though. You can have them.”

Ryan blinks. “I… Are you sure? They don’t exactly look cheap.”

Gavin waves a hand dismissively through the air. “Yeah, s’no problem. I’ve got money.”

Ryan presses his lips together, uncertain of how to respond to the gesture. Luckily, Gavin doesn’t seem to be looking for any grand response, as he just plops down on the other end of the sofa, flips on the TV, and boots up his XBox.

“D’you play Hitman?” He asks as the main loading screen starts up.

Ryan nods, slowly. It’s sort of ironic for a superhero to enjoy a game where you commit crime, but Ryan has always found the simulated violence somewhat soothing in ways he can’t quite explain.

With his phone charging in the other room, there’s not much Ryan has to do except watch Gavin play. He could always get up and wander back, set out on the task of unpacking his few belongings and retire early, but he quickly decides that Gavin is entertaining enough to make hanging around worth it.

“Ah! Got you now, you mincey little prick-” He starts, while the character onscreen stalks after his target. But a security guard appears pretty much out of nowhere, startling the both of them- only, Ryan manages to keep his reaction internal, whereas Gavin gives a grand shout and practically flings his controller into the air. It sails in a clean arc directly for Ryan’s head. He tracks the motion, almost lazily, before snapping his hand up at the last moment and snatching it out of the air.

Gavin stares at him, eyes wide and apologetic, as Ryan returns the controller.

“Good reflexes,” He eventually mumbles in lieu of an apology.

“Thanks,” Ryan replies through a short laugh. “Though I would prefer it if I didn’t need to use them.”

Gavin ducks his head and sets about restarting the mission- it seems the hitman was shot dead during the confusion.

After just a couple of hours, Ryan becomes acquainted with a great many new terms, none of which he had ever heard used before in his conscious life. Among them are ‘mingey spaff,’ ‘toss pot,’ and ‘absolute ponce.’ They sound completely fake, but when Ryan raises his eyebrows and asks, Gavin repeatedly insists that they’re not only real, but common, back in England. Ryan neglects to mention that he’s been to England a few times on (superhero) business, and has never heard anything like them.

At 11:00 PM, a few hours into Gavin’s Hitman marathon, Ryan starts eyeing the wall clock and weighing his options mentally. He hadn’t been planning on going out tonight- he’s jetlagged and assumed he would need to take time to adjust to his new surroundings before donning his suit and taking to the streets- but being around Gavin seems to have given him a boost of energy, and Ryan is itching to go out and start exploring the city and getting a feel for his new home.

He lets a half hour pass without making a decision, and then Gavin suddenly stiffens, staring up at the clock, and swears under his breath. He quickly saves and exits out of the game.

“What’s up?” Ryan asks.

Gavin’s already halfway to the hall when Ryan speaks, and he freezes, seemingly just remembering that he is not, in fact, alone. “Oh, uh…” Gavin shrugs lamely. “Got a deadline I forgot about. I need to work.” Then he disappears. Ryan hears a door open and shut, and then he sits in silence for a few moments, blinking away the confusion and heading for his own room to retrieve a jacket.

Since Gavin is now apparently busy, he’ll just walk around for a bit in plain clothes and start mentally mapping out the territory, seeing who’s around and what areas seem the most in need of his attentions.

The air outside is slightly brisk at worst, and way too warm to justify his coat regardless, so he rolls up the sleeves and tucks his hands into his pockets, then sets out down the street. He’ll take some time to wander and start getting a mental layout, and if he gets lost, well, that’s what Google Maps is for, right?

The street lights cast everything in a cold golden light. It’s quieter here than other parts of the city, Geoff assured him, but it’s still pretty damn  _ loud; _ cars constantly roll past with varying adherence to the speed limit, and if he listens, Ryan can hear a mixture of wind through the trees and the hum of the technology keeping security systems and HVAC systems and traffic lights running.

About an hour into his walk, Ryan passes a small park that is little more than a block of grass dotted with benches and decides to go sit down for a few minutes. He can check in on the police scanners, he decides, and see where the action is this evening.

Just as he settles down onto what a small sign assures him is a wooden bench made from reclaimed milk cartons, he hears the unmistakable click of the safety being taken off of a gun, less than a foot behind his head.

“Gimme the phone and your wallet,” A hoarse voice says. “And no one gets hurt.”

_ Oh, _ Ryan thinks.  _ How you’ll wish that was true. _

He raises his hands in surrender and slowly stands, turning to face the mugger. He already has a plan for how he’ll proceed by the time the man’s face (completely uncovered, not very professional) comes into view, but that all goes out the window when he catches sight of another man, half hidden by the trunk of a tree a few feet away from the mugger. His green form-fitting suit is a pretty big giveaway that he is not, in fact, backup for the mugger. Another giveaway is the gloved finger he presses to his lips as he steps out from behind the bark and starts creeping closer.

The kid looks like he’s at least a decade Ryan’s junior, and it takes all of his willpower to resist rolling his eyes as the kid nearly steps on a fallen branch and gives himself away.

The mugger raises his eyebrows expectantly and gestures to Ryan’s pocket with the gun. “Are you stupid?” He asks. “Phone! Wallet! Now!”

The kid in green finally reaches the mugger and in a flash of movement, he smashes an open palm into his inner elbow, forcing him to drop the gun, then brings up a knee to smash firmly into the man’s groin. He goes down with a shout, smashing his forehead on the edge of the bench on his way down.

The kid grins victoriously as he kicks the gun out of the mugger’s reach and quickly retrieves it, placing a hand on the rim of his thick frame glasses and calling out, “Got him, Vav!”

Ryan looks around once more and notices yet another form hidden behind a tree- this one in blue. They’re too far and too hidden by the tree for Ryan to get a good look, but he catches a red-gloved thumbs up, then turns his attention back to the kid in green, who’s speaking again.

“Don’t fucking move, dirtbag,” He says. “I’ve got a new pair of glasses full of lasers, and I am  _ itching _ for an excuse to use them.”

A quick tap into his powers allows Ryan to confirm this; the glasses indeed house a rather advanced heat guidance system which seems to be capable of channeling energy into beams. There’s no apparent power source; Ryan guesses that it come directly from the kid himself.

He seems to notice Ryan, turning to nod at him and stick his left hand out across his chest to shake. Ryan takes it and raises an eyebrow, silently asking for information like a good little civilian.

“Hey, man. How’s your evening going?”

“Beside being mugged?”

_ “Nearly _ mugged,” The man corrects, grinning. “Until some badass heroes swooped in and saved you. No need to thank us.”

“‘Us’?” Ryan repeats, glancing again at the blue one, who is still hiding behind a tree several yards away.

“Man,” He says, eyebrows raising. “You must be new here.”

“Just flew in this evening, actually.”

“Oh, sweet. Welcome to LA. I’m X-Ray.” He reaches across his chest with his free left hand to shake. “My partner Vav over there is calling the authorities. The police will want to talk to you, but…” X-Ray shrugs. “It’s your first night, so if you want to take off, it’s cool. This one’s pretty open and shut anyway.”

“Thanks,” He feels all of the exhaustion of the day hit him all at once, and it doesn’t take much for Ryan to make his decision. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

X-Ray nods. “Alright. Hopefully, you won’t ever have to see me again. Goodnight, man.”

The apartment is quiet when Ryan returns, a little after 1 AM. He shrugs off his coat, grabs himself a glass of water, and heads for his room. The mattress is bare, but Ryan remembers seeing a linen closet in the bathroom, and he finds it full of everything he needs to dress the bed. He sets a note on his phone reminding him to check in on the delivery status for the rest of his belongings in the morning, then settles in.

And for once, his insomnia doesn’t keep him awake through the night.

 

Ryan goes out again at least four times a week for about a month before he decides it’s time.

During that month, he’s offered a job with the company Geoff works for, he receives the rest of his belongings and unpacks his room so it looks like someone actually lives there, he buys groceries so the pantry and fridge aren’t just home to lunchables and chips, and he spends a great many idle hours in the living room with Gavin. Thursday nights on particular have been consistently spent together, and Ryan has learned one fact over and over:

The dude is a fucking enigma.

Half of the time, he’s an idiot, plain and simple. He says things that make no sense, he asks completely random questions that hold little to no coherency, and he manages to trip over nothing but the air in front of him so many times that Ryan starts to seriously wonder if he was actually born with two left feet. He also stops even trying to keep his shit picked up after the first week, but Ryan’s long-sleeping paternal instinct curbs his irritation when he sees Gavin standing in the middle of the kitchen with an empty glass and a completely blank expression to go with his dark circles, and inevitably startles the shit out of him when he clears his throat or taps his shoulder to ask if he’s okay. It’s obvious that Gavin is  _ tired _ most of the time, and not just normal tired, either- it’s the kind of tired indicative of weeks living off of minimal sleep. Ryan is familiar with that kind of exhaustion, and he knows better than to  _ ask _ about it, particularly when they know so little about each other. So, instead, he sticks with humoring the other half of Gavin’s personality: debate, ranging from hypothetical to philosophical to even vaguely flirty in ways that often leave Ryan flustered.

_ “Ryan,” Gavin starts, as he usually does. “Do you get it when if someone says a nasty story about a penis, your actual penis hurts?” _

_ Ryan peers at him over the top of his book. _

_ “What the actual fuck are you talking about? _

That one was… Not the most pleasant, since Gavin’s attempts to explain a situation wherein one might feel ‘empathetic penis pain’ nearly caused the man himself to vomit.

_ Gavin walks into the kitchen area with a look on his face that lets Ryan know immediately that he’s been contemplating whatever asinine thing he’s about to throw out into the air between them for at least an hour, maybe longer. _

_ “If you sleep upside down, do you dream upside down?” _

Ryan took a firm stance on that one- of course not, what kind of fucking question is that.

It’s entertaining, and Gavin never seems to push past what Ryan’s comfortable talking about, so he goes along with it and finds himself actively enjoying their conversations more often than not. Ryan decides that he’ll have to actually follow through with enchilada night, as a gesture of thanks toward Geoff.

Or so he thinks, until the incident after Gavin crashes in, drunk off his ass and stumbling into walls. Ryan has to catch him mid-fall to prevent him from cracking his head open on the coffee table.

_ “Ryan!” Gavin shouts, a combination of startled, observing, and delighted. _

_ “Gavin,” Ryan greets, with considerably less enthusiasm. _

_ “Ryan, did you know,” Gavin says, and Ryan starts to let go of him, but Gavin grabs onto his shirt and fists it tightly. “That you are very handsome?” _

_ Ryan is taken aback. “I… Thanks?” _

_ “Seriously,” Gavin says, eyebrows raising. “I’d do you. That’s not a lie. Michael bet me- Michael, that pleb. He owes me 20 quid now. He bet me I wouldn’t tell you.” _

_ His brows press together. So Gavin was just… Following through on a bet? _

_ “But he’s wrong. I was’gonna tell you, anyway. S’just scary. Can’t talk to a bloke without being piss drunk.” _

_ Well. That answers that. _

_ “...Come on,” Ryan says, gently gripping Gavin’s shoulders and steering him down the hall. “Let’s get you to bed.” _

_ And if he remembered that conversation having taken place the next morning, he gives no indication of it. _

_ Ryan buried his troubles in an indulgent glass of whiskey, and then he tried to follow Gavin’s example and pretend it had never happened. _

But for right now, it’s finally time for him to suit up again. After over a month of inactivity, Ryan is eager to get back out and start protecting people again. He’s almost been desperate enough to start having conversations with his phone again, but having Gavin around deters most of the seemingly crazy behavior that he would otherwise be unconcerned about. Still, it’s come close.

Unfortunately, Gavin is home and out of his room this evening. Some nights, he goes ‘to get bevved up with Michael’ or locks himself away for hours at a time doing god knows what. This is not one of those nights. Instead, he’s curled up on the couch with a beer and a PS4 controller.

Ryan watches him for a moment unseen from the hallway before returning to his room, only slightly disappointed that he’ll be missing out on a Thursday evening of hanging out.

_ Superheroics is his calling, _ he reminds himself.  _ It’s what he was born to do. _

And it isn’t too difficult to get back into the right headspace for it, once he’s suited up and jumping out of his window.

His mask taps into the local police radios and scanners. There’s a massive overabundance of tech surrounding him when compared to things in Georgia, but he put on the helmet while locked in his room a few times before this to give himself time to adjust, and he’s used to the change by now. The helmet helps him to filter the incoming signals and finetune his power.

In under a minute, Ryan tracks down a signal for an armed robbery of a nearby convenience store. He taps into security cameras until he gets a view of the men in ski masks sprinting a couple of blocks down. With practiced ease, Ryan navigates the fastest path and cuts them off.

He senses X-Ray’s glasses around the corner, so he ducks back into an alley and lets them pass him, then steps out to help box them out when X-Ray pops out, blocking their escape. Their only other option is into busy traffic, which neither of them opts to take. With X-Ray’s assistance, Ryan manages to disarm one of the men, but the other punches him in the face- his knuckles skim uselessly off the helmet, but the blow had enough power to knock Ryan to the side- and slips past him. A flash of heat and light crosses inches from Ryan’s face, and then the man’s shoes are melted into the ground.

“Ha!” X-Ray cries. “Got you, asshole!”

The police catch up a few moments later, gratefully taking the men into custody. Their relieved smiles and breathy words of thanks make Ryan feel warm inside. It’s been a long while since his patrolling was met with gratitude, rather than suspicion or outright aggression.

“What can we call you?” One of the officers asks Ryan.

He smiles, though his expression is completely hidden by the mask. “Mechatronic.”

“Dude!” X-Ray shouts, and Ryan is seriously starting to wonder if this kid just has the one volume setting. “That name is cool as shit!”

Ryan is offered a gloved fist bump, which he accepts. “Where’s Vav?” He asks conversationally.

X-Ray shrugs. “He had shit to do tonight. I’m pretty sure he’s on a date, actually. Fucking nerd.”

“Dating someone makes you a nerd?”

“Of course! Us superheroes have to be married to justice! But I’m pretty sure this is just a sex thing, so.”

“Er… Right.” Ryan shakes his head at just how open X-Ray is about… Well, everything, if the few interviews he’s read are any indication. Aside from personal details which could reveal his secret identity, he seems willing to talk about and share just about any aspect of his life, including a fifteen minute rant with a CNN rep about the border between sexy teasing and annoying teasing. Ryan got about thirty seconds into that one before clicking away, face red.

“So, I’ve never seen you around here before,” X-Ray continues, apparently oblivious to Ryan’s slight discomfort. “Are you new in town?”

The cops are listening intently, apparently also eager to hear his answer.

“Yeah. I just moved here, and I want to help however I can.”

And so began his career as a hero of Los Angeles.

He stuck with X-Ray on a couple more calls that evening, then branched off toward home at around four in the morning. Gavin is passed out on the couch with a slightly alarming number of empties scattered around him. Ryan tucks the duvet laid across the couch around Gavin’s form before retreating back into his bedroom for the night.

 

Gavin is sulking the next morning. Ryan tries to ask him what’s up but receives only noncommittal grunts in return. His plan to just leave Gavin be lasts exactly until Gavin reaches for another beer at eleven in the morning, at which point Ryan retreats to his room and calls Geoff, because that shit is not normal.

_ “What did you do?” _

“What did  _ I _ do?” Ryan repeats, incredulous.

_ “Yes,” _ Geoff affirms.  _ “He was fine up until you two started doing your fucking flirty dance. And even then, he was fine. But he called me last night to whine, and I couldn’t understand him because he was so fucking hammered. All I got was your name, and ‘Thursday’. So- What did you do?” _

“I-I don’t…”

_ “Did you cancel a date to do superhero shit?” _

Wow, does Ryan wish Geoff didn’t know his secret. “Geoff-”

_ “Fix it, Ryan. Seriously. I don’t want to have to kick your ass. Now, I gotta go. Some of us have to work normal fucking hours.” _

And then he hung up, because Geoff’s a fucking asshole.

 

The pieces come together a few nights later, when he meets up with X-Ray in the same park where they originally met (though X-Ray does not know this), and for once, he’s not alone. Standing at his side is a man in what is pretty much a patriotic recolor of X-Ray’s suit. His face is obscured by a mask. It’s not enough.

“Sup, Mecha?” X-Ray greets. “This is Vav. Vav, this is the guy I’ve been telling you about.”

“I thought you’d be taller,” Vav comments, eyeing him critically.

Ryan’s brain short-circuits. He’d read a few of Vav’s interviews along with X-Ray’s, but since the two of them were basically a package deal from what Ryan could see, he didn’t bother with the videos, wary of repeating his earlier incident with X-Ray’s oversharing.

So. This is where Gavin goes at night.

“Uh… Sorry, I was just… Joking…” Vav-  _ Gavin- _ looks supremely uncomfortable, and Ryan realizes he’s been standing under the silent scrutiny of the mask for several seconds.

He forces out a laugh and shrugs. “I’ve gotten that one before.”

His mask disguises his voice, and Gavin doesn’t seem to see through it, so Ryan decides that he’s probably clear for the immediate future and resolves to go through the motions this evening and figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do with this information at another point in time. A point where the object of his reluctant affections isn’t staring uneasily at him from behind a mask and wearing a cape.

 

“So,” Ryan says a few days later, because there’s no better conjunction to start this mess of a conversation with. “What’d’you think of those superhero guys?”

“Which ones?” Gavin replies, completely relaxed and casual. Ryan has to give him props; he was expecting some kind of physical tell, but Gavin’s body language gives away nothing.

“X-Ray and Vav, I think they’re called?”

“Seem alright,” He replies carefully. “Keep the city safe, I suppose. Why?”

Ryan presses his lips together, then decides  _ fuck it, no chickening out now. _ He takes his mask out from where he’s been hiding it behind his back and quickly pulls it on, taking advantage of Gavin’s turned back to seize the element of surprise.

“Because your secret identity would be much better protected if you even  _ tried _ to hide your accent.”

Gavin whirls around, all pretenses of calm shedding like water, and in its place is pure alarm.

He sputters for a few seconds, then seems to just give up completely on speaking, opting instead to bury his face in his hands.

Ryan removes the mask and mentally nudges the lights until they dim slightly.

Gavin looks up, startled, then relaxes with a small laugh. “You’re really the technopath, then. You’re really Mechatronic.”

“And you’re really Vav.” Ryan replies, taking small steps across the kitchen linoleum.

“What do we do, then?”

“What do we do, normally?”

Gavin shrugs. “Play games. I drink and flirt with you while you pretend to go along with it. The usual.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow. “Who decided I was pretending?”

And that, of all things, earns him the most startled look he’s ever seen cross Gavin’s features.

Rather than watching him stumble over the beginnings of more words, Ryan kisses him. It’s a clearer form of communication, anyway.

 

Ryan sends out the text inviting Geoff to enchilada night. Gavin extends the invitation to Ray.

“Hey! You fixed it!” Geoff shouts when he catches Ryan with his arm around Gavin’s waist.

‘Ray’ is just X-Ray, sans the X and the outfit. “Whoa,” he says when Ryan answers the door. “You’re the dude I rescued in the park! Man, you just  _ let  _ me say all that bravado shit when you could have kicked that dude’s ass?”

Ryan nods and smirks.

“Awesome. You and Vav are perfect for each other. Where’s the food?”


End file.
